Phoenix Rewritten
by Lillal
Summary: Thorin X OC
1. Disclaimer

I am currently rewriting this story as I am not happy with the way that it has been turning out. I do apologize for the amount of time that it has been since I have updated, and for any mistakes that may be made within these chapters. If you spot any inaccuracies please feel free to PM me and I will do my best to change them.

Just a disclaimer, if you recognize anything, it is likely that I do not own it. This is obviously a story based in Middle Earth, there will however be references to video games, and books that I find fitting with my story. This story will be rated MA due to swearing and adult situations. There will be certain points within this story that may be a trigger for some people, and I will mention it beforehand.

Happy reading.


	2. Chapter One

_**September 21**_ _ **st**_

 _ **TA 2789**_

Quivering hand clutched tightly over her mouth to stifle the sound of her cries the trembling form of the now orphaned child no older than ten summers sunk lower behind the pile of rubble that was once a house in the bustling town of Besaid. Chest heaving as she attempted to calm herself Rafiki did her best to ignore the sweltering heat radiating from the smoldering wood at such close quarters, and the way that the smoke curling from the stone burned at her eyes, making the gently slanted orbs the color of copper and honey water at the sensation.

Crystalline tears welled to the point that they could no longer be held, clinging to the end of the lengthy lashes clustered thickly next to one another before racing down her soot stained face to reveal the fair caramel skin bellow.

" _I smell your fear, woman_." Rumble a deep baritone like far off thunder, the words assaulting her ears as the vowels and tones sounded, hisses and growls punctuating a language she had studied for nearly three years. The owner of the thundering tone a massive orc with skin the same shade as the moon high above them, haunting azure orbs falling closed as he inhaled deeply. " _Such an intoxicating scent. But I sense something else, perhaps anger? How refreshing, my lieutenant tells me your fellow townsfolk reeked of fear, they did nothing to hide it, they begged for mercy. Pitiful_."

Curling closer into herself Rafiki attempted to drown out the words carried to her by a frigid breeze as the month of September came to a close. Clenching her eyes shut words her father often spoke to both Rafiki, her sister, and their younger brother's echoed through her mind with haunting familiarity, the smile that would light his handsome face after telling them flashing in her mind's eye.

'Anger doesn't solve anything yangu, it builds nothing, but can destroy everything. Remember these words when you tremble in your resolve and you will never fail.'

The words had penetrated Rafiki's mind too late, however meaningful they were to her. A future differing far from the one originally hoped for had found seed in her heart.

The rage that had settled into her stomach coursed through her veins beneath a heavy layer of slowly dimishing fear, each word spoken by the behemoth not fifty feet from her feeding it into a blaze brighter than the sun. The feeling was foreign to the child whom had done her best to evade the clutches of anger through many sources, but Rafiki was finding that the fury settling in her heart was addicting no matter how unfamiliar.

" _Find her_." The thunderous words broke Rafiki from her revere, sending her eyes skittering across the snow stained landscape, searching for an escape she would not find, her sisters footprints leading towards the mountains in the distance fading from sight the further away that they moved, the path clear but unable to be followed. " _Bring her to me, alive."_

She knew it was pointless, she would not be able to escape, and her sister had left her in hopes of saving herself. While her sister was swift as the wind Rafiki could not outrun the wargs prowling the demolished town, let alone the arrows of the orcs perched upon their backs no matter what training she'd sought from Deckard in the past year, nor that which she'd received from the Shamans since her birth.

Her sister had escaped naught seconds before the siege had befallen them, sprinting into the distance with unimaginable speed at the urgings of their father, the thin cloak draped over her frame with hood pulled high blending with the stark landscape around her, the heir to the throne disappeared without a glance back to see her people's fate. Rafiki attempted to convince herself that Svetla had escaped the reach of the orcs, so that she could rebuild Besaid in the coming years. She could rule as she was meant to do since her birth.

Sinking herself into the now familiar stance Rafiki prepared herself to lash out at the first beast to wander close enough to spot her, shaking the remaining thoughts of her sister from her mind.

Rafiki had not long to wait, a particularly burly orc having set out straight for her, his steps heavy on the ash stained terrain, massive ax held loosely in one hand as he lumbered along. A single short wail of surprise leaving his lips at the attack launched upon him as he meandered around the tower of rubble.

Body seizing at the rapid blows landing on his skin the orc gave a final attempt at warding off the fuming child before she tore his trachea from its home in his throat with curled hands.

Shoving the body from her Rafiki backpedaled, sinking back into a crouch as she waited the next launched assault, ignoring the raven blood dripping from her fingers and the river of ruby trailing down her chin from the deep split in her bottom lip from the orcs attempts at sparing his life.

Rushing to the sounds of battle and their fallen comrade the orcs stumbled into the blurred form of Rafiki whom tore at the orcs, daggers whipping from one orc to the next, hands occasionally burrowing into ones chest as she dislodged its heart or punctured a lung.

Unwilling to fall under the mass of enemy's Rafiki prepared to fight until her last breath, giving a small shout of indignation as a massive hand came down on the back of her neck, sweeping her clean off her feet, toes dangling nearly five feet above the now inky snow.

" _Azog the defiler_." Rafiki spat, eyes burning wildly at the sight of him, accented alto spitting the harsh unfamiliar language without hesitation, the tales of his crimes having been whispered as horror stories to get children to obey their parents.

Lips curling into a smirk at the name Azog leaned close, running a calloused thumb across her bottom lip, tongue darting out to sample the blood that had collected on its surface, shifting in his seat at the exquisite taste.

" _Tell me, my darling_." Azog crooned, dragging the back of his free hand down the side of her face, ignoring both the scowl adorning her pretty features and the snap of her teeth as his hand neared her mouth. " _What is your name_?"

Lips pursing in distaste Rafiki pondered the thought of refusing to respond, deciding against it as her legs swung almost wildly as Azog shifted his position once more, settling into a more comfortable state.

" _Rafiki_." She supplied at last, hating the way he observed her, taking in her features and her petite frame draped in the now decimated tunic.

" _Daughter of High Summoner Aeon Cid_." Azog finished, well aware that she would not divulge her heritage. " _Tell me, did you inherit his talents?_ "

" _Your army butchered my family. Burned my people. Decimated my home."_ Rafiki evaded his question, narrowing her eyes in anger. " _You did nothing to stop them!_ "

" _Butchered your family? Burned your people?"_ Azog shot back frowning in a highly convincing manner that would have worked had Rafiki not seen it with her own eyes.

" _I watched them!"_ Rafiki snarled, swiping at his face in a useless attempt to maim him, fury licking at her heart in an almost painful manner.

" _Yes they butchered your family and burned your people. The order was given by one with more power than you can imagine!"_ Azog sneered, lips curling in distaste at the fussing child before him. " _One does not defy his orders and hope to live."_

" _More power than I can imagine?"_ Rafiki questioned, mind spinning as she attempted to decipher his meaning, legends of old and whispers of alliances hedging at her mind. _"His orders? You cannot possibly mean…"_

" _Ponder this no more, you will not find the answers you seek."_ Azog dismissed, pulling her closer in hopes of his words impacting her enough that she would comprehend his meaning. " _You were nothing to these people. And now they will be nothing to you. Place them from your mind and you will find your place among my ranks, your place at my side; your place as my second in command as you have always meant to. You will command the armies of Mordor one day, the way your father and sister were planned to. You were destined for great things, Rafiki; I am simply showing you the path."_

Rafiki's mind sputtered and seemed to jam at his words. He was not wrong, the people in Besaid were nowhere near kind to her, being second in line to the throne, meant she was next to useless to her people, and she was not male leaving her unable to join the guard as she once wished, and once her sister had begun her training she was distant, Rafiki becoming dwarfed in the shadow of her greatness. Svetla was heir and had no room for the peskiness of younger siblings, be it Rafiki herself or their younger twin brother's Eanraig and Borya. Their father Aeon Cid was held in the clutches of his duties as High Summoner when not training Svetla, and Rafiki's step-mother Yavanna, a High Priestess was usually busy teaching Eanraig and Borya the ways of the Priests before the Shamans completely took the duties from her.

But had they deserved to die at the hands of an Orc Army that descended upon them in the late hours of the night when the moon was at its highest?

Perhaps they had. Rafiki decided, the petty foolishness that the shamans often chided her for clung to the thought that perhaps they did deserve the hand that fate delivered them.

" _Come Rafiki."_ Azog crooned once more, breaking the young woman from her thoughts. _"You will be well respected, you will find no harm offered to you while you remain in my care."_

" _You mean it?"_ Rafiki questioned, mind now spinning and whirling faster than ever, as she gazed at him, watching for faults in his demeanor.

" _But of course, my gem."_ Azog replied gently, running a hand over the mass of untamed chocolate curls, gazing at her with an unreadable expression. " _You will long for nothing. You will have things you never knew you wanted. You will be the most feared and respected woman in the whole of Arda. Tales will be told of your glory. You will be a queen."_

" _A queen?" The thought of the title that had once been far from her reach taunted Rafiki in an alluring way that she had not expected._

" _Yes." Azog smirked, enjoying the way that greed flashed through her eyes. "Like none seen before. Greater than the Valar themselves. Greater, than any can imagine. You will be queen to the armies of hell. And the heavens…shall tremble in your wake."_

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 _Yangu – Daughter (Swahili)_

 _Dragulj od mina – Gem of Mine (Croatian/Bosnian)_


	3. Chapter Two

_**TA 2795**_

Once again Rafiki found herself crouching behind a mass of rubble, but for a much different reason than the one six years prior. She knew not how long she'd been huddled off to the side of the path but time seemed to drag endlessly. The trip to Mount Gundabad and The Mountains of Angmar were a strenuous journey for the most seasoned warrior, for Rafiki at nearly 17 summers, the trip had taken its toll, step by step she'd fallen further and further behind the orc contingency with which she traveled, losing sight of them as they rounded a bend vanishing down a fork in the road beyond the curve. Which side of the path they'd taken Rafiki did not know.

The rain pouring from the inky sky above washed away all hopes Rafiki had of tracking them in order to make it back to Moria, where Azog lay impatiently in wait for her return, no doubt furious at the fact that the his orcs had by now returned without her.

The crunch of rock and squelch of mud announced someone nearing the shaking youth, orbs of copper and honey gazed from under the hood of her cloak at the elderly wizard making towards her, the wide brim of his stormy grey hat protecting his face from the onslaught of moisture, the lengthy robes the same hue as his hat were lifted to keep them from dragging through the mud.

"Whatever is the matter?" The wizard inquired, crouching low in front of Rafiki, bending his head in an attempt to peer under the edge of the hood drawn low over her face, keeping a safe distance from her in case she lashed out in anger or perhaps more aptly fear.

Muttering a response that became drowned out by the rumble of thunder overhead Rafiki turned her face from the wizard and his inquiring gaze, ignoring the sting of rain as it pounded against her battered flesh received from her questioning the slender orc stalker leading the army back to Moria.

"I am sorry to say that I could not hear you, my dear." Informed the taller of the two, edging a wrinkled yet gentle hand forward to grasp at her chin, pulling her face up to look at him, biting back an utterance of surprise at the wounds and bruises mottling her flesh.

"I said that I am not supposed to speak to strangers." Rafiki repeated, louder than before, coarse alto accented heavily with the remains of a foreign birth, and more-so an unsavory tongue. Raising her head further Rafiki meet the wizards gaze without hesitation brows pulling down in a small scowl, ignoring the twinge of pain from the split in her brow.

"Well then." The wizard cracked a smile, releasing her chin at last. "I am Gandalf the Grey; may I inquire your name? For we will no longer be strangers if we know who we are!"

"Rafiki." She muttered, just loud enough for him to catch. _Ward of Azog the Defiler,_ Rafiki thought to herself, unwilling to admit to the elderly man the life she'd been living for many years now.

"What is a young woman like you, doing so far from civilization, let alone without an escort, or a guide in the least?"

"Those with which I traveled, have moved on, deeming me too slow." Rafiki informed, gnawing at her already shredded bottom lip, the split running through the plush flesh peeling open at the motion, oozing down her chin, the crimson a stark contrast to the pale backdrop.

Attempting to convince herself that she was not technically lying to him Rafiki found it eased her mind marginally. Though she was skilled in the art of lying, Rafiki chose carefully whom to lie to. It was a skill she needed if she was to complete her missions as instructed, but the only time she had lied to Azog, the consequences had been dire. Rafiki had learned that Azog's wrath of being lied to was a monstrous thing and his annoyance when she did something wrong paled in comparison to it.

The kind fog shaded eyes peering out at her from under thick

brows urged her to trust Gandalf, the tension in the air between them fading slowly as she shifted to face him.

"No good man will leave a woman behind." Gandalf chastised, a frown tugging at his lips, eyes turning to face the bend of the path. "No matter how slow she may be traveling."

"They are not men." Rafiki countered, watching his face closely, his jaw snapping shut as his mind spun from her words, as if they were foreign and unknown to him.

"Well in that case, no good woman will leave another behind." Adjusting his wording the wizard gave a sure nod, assuming he was correct this time around.

"They are not women either." Rafiki chastised, giving a small shake of her head as he gazed at her, perplexed. "Nor are they dwarves, or elves or another being of the world belonging to the light."

"My dear." Gandalf uttered, words slow as he looked at her with a different understanding than before. "Do you mean to tell me you are a prisoner of Orcs?"

"I am telling you nothing, you are simply assuming." Rafiki snapped waspishly, fearing the punishment if she were found talking to Gandalf, let alone telling him things that should not be uttered. "Nor am I a prisoner."

"You are not a prisoner, and yet you travel with orcs. Am I to believe you are with them willingly?" Gandalf needled, hand coming to rest on the hilt of his sword.

"I am not with them willingly, but I am not a prisoner."

"And to where, exactly, do you travel?" Gandalf muttered, almost afraid of the answer he would receive.

Pursing her lips Rafiki debated if it would be worth it to tell the wizard her intended destination. Surely he would not be so reckless as to follow her there by any means? If he were foolish enough the consequences would be his own to deal with.

"Moria."

Clenching his jaw Gandalf assessed her with new eyes, wondering just what this child had been through in her short lifetime.

"Azog the Defiler inhabits that mine, am I to assume that you have met him? From where exactly are you returning that you cannot wait to reach Moria? There are few places that come to mind, none of them where a young woman should wander."

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth Rafiki glanced around wearily, as if there was an orc just waiting for her to mention such things, the second she opened her mouth to answer the question he would spring out to kill her.

"Mount Gundabad." Rafiki paused evading the first question, shooting the wizard a glare as he interrupted her.

"Mount Gundabad? But whatever would you need from Gundabad."

"I was not privy to the reason we made the trip, nor am I willing to ask again. However, that is not the only place." Rafiki warned, glancing around once more. "We made for Angmar as well."

"You cannot mean to tell me that you were sent to these places. Why do you stay with these vermin?"

"Why would I speak of such things if it were not true? I gain nothing by spewing fanciful tales of trekking to such places. As for why I stay with the Orcs? The same reason as any other whom may find themselves in such a position, I have no other options."

"Yes, yes, I see your point. You always have other options child." Gandalf reassured, resting a weary hand upon her shoulder, giving a small squeeze meant to comfort her. "The world is filled with opportunity, you must simply find it."

"If only it were so simple." Rafiki gave a wry smile, gently batting his hand from her shoulder as she pushed her lean body from the crouch it had resided in. "I am where I am by the hand of fate. One day it will fall into place in the journey I am meant to partake in. I accepted my fate long ago Master Gandalf, perhaps you should accept it as well."

"You truly believe the Valar have placed you here?" Gandalf questioned, eyes stern as he too stood, stepping lightly to reach her shoulder, gazing at her in an attempt to understand her words.

"I said fate, Gandalf, not Gods. Two very different things in my opinion. But by any means, your Gods are different than the Gods I was raised to believe in. So very different." Rafiki muttered, turning her attention to the scars on her palms. "Your gods comfort their people; not allowing the suffering to overwhelm them for too long before they take them from this land. Your gods accept their people and their mistakes. The Gods I worshiped blindly as a child? They abandoned me eons before my time on Arda began, leaving me to sort whatever hand I had been dealt, leaving me to whatever ending I may happen upon. Fate, has landed me here, in the care of the orcs, as I have been for the past six years."

Startled by her words Gandalf gaped at the woman, mind fumbling at her statement, at how true she believed the words to be.

"My gods are cruel." Rafiki whispered, barely heard over the storm. "My gods have no faith in me, and I have no faith in them."

A loud curse familiar to Rafiki sounded from somewhere around the bend, alerting her to the rescue soon to be upon her. At the sound the wizard's head whipped in the direction of the unsavory words, hand clenching around the hilt he'd once rested his hand upon, ready to strike down whatever or more aptly whomever, may turn the corner.

"You will lose wizard." Rafiki chastised, resting a frigid, calloused hand on his, preventing him from drawing the weapon as he so wished to, his eyes sweeping the landscape. "Azog the defiler is not a foe to be faced lightly, especially when his prized possession is in danger."

Form going rigid at her words Gandalf's lips twisted, eyes wide and uncertain as his mind processed the information.

"Go now." Rafiki insisted, reaching to place two fingers against the wizard's brow in farewell, eyes meeting his with a sense of finality. "I will pray to your gods for your success my friend. May they guide you well."

Detaching herself from him Rafiki made for the bend of the path, glancing once over her armored shoulder ready to chastise the wizard if he had not heeded her warning, finding the path empty and desolate as ever.

"Until we meet again."

The familiar form of Azog seated upon his winter Warg rounded the corner, stopping short as he spotted her, feet meeting the mud with a resounding thwack, striding towards her with haste.

" _Azog."_ Rafiki greeted gently, eyes falling closed as his hands rose to cup her face, inspecting the damage done to it, a low rumble escaping from deep in his chest.

" _Who did this?"_ Azog snarled, fingers digging into her skin in a firm yet unpainful manner, simply keeping her from pulling away.

" _It is of no concern."_ Rafiki waved it off, unwilling to throw the orc to the wolves despite his actions. No, she would take care of him herself.

" _Rafiki_." Azog snapped, fingers tucking a strand of loose chocolate curls behind her once gently tapered ear, calloused fingertips came into contact with the now blunted tip, lips curling at the jagged edge, blood welling from the fresh wound in a slow yet steady stream. " _The beast that has done this will not walk free._ "

" _I will kill him myself Azog."_ Rafiki scowled, praying he would leave the topic be, knowing that if he requested to see her flesh to asses for any more damage that she would be unable to refuse. " _I will rest, and then I will strike him."_  
" _Zevgent."_ Azog hissed, releasing Rafiki with a loud curse pacing in a circle round her, catching immediately how her slender frame tensed as he neared her back, an action that had not been practiced for nearly three years, pale orbs shooting to the gaping tears in her usually flawless armor, the tissue beneath torn and weeping in multiple places.

Hands trembling at the sight Azog released his fury in an ear shattering roar, the sound echoing through the mountain pass as he stalked forward, gripping her shoulders tightly, tilting her so that he could observe the damage.

With a huff, fuming and ready to decapitate the next living thing he found Azog heaved Rafiki over his shoulder, her weight settling familiarly against him as he made for the Warg, mounting it with ease, spurring her into a sprint without hesitation, adjusting Rafiki so she sat cradled against his chest, arms coming to wrap around her tenderly.

Placing the images of what was to come from her mind Rafiki shifted, settling herself deeper against the Orc she'd once sworn to herself that she would kill, finding as the years passed that it would not be as easy a task as she originally thought. The events of the past six years having changer her opinion over Azog a great deal.

Though he was not a gentle being by any means he treated Rafiki like a fragile piece of glass that he treasured more than life itself, something that both infuriated Rafiki and sent warmth curling in her stomach, a feeling unlike any she'd felt before.

Gazing over the familiar burly shoulder as they rounded the corner, Rafiki met the concerned gaze of the wizard currently standing in the middle of the path as he had been when they'd been talking, observing helplessly as the young woman was whisked from his sights, her eyes flashing brightly at him one last time. Though Rafiki was no longer seen by the wizard she was not lost upon his mind, her words echoing at him from the recesses of his mind, a small sense of relief befalling him as he repeated her words to his soaked surroundings.

"Until we meet again, my friend."


	4. Chapter Three

_**TA 2941**_

From her temporary perch high on the steep cliff face just outside the borders of the Trollshaws, Rafiki muttered a string of orders, voice lilting and growling in places and hissing in others as she spoke the familiar vowels and tones of the Dark Tongue of Mordor, more commonly dubbed Black Speech.

Dropping from her perch silent as the shadows surrounding her Rafiki's slender ink stained hands shot out at unimaginable speed, calloused fingers burrowing into holes and cracks as she slowed her descent from her previous altitude, easing her lithe frame into a crowded position on a small ledge some four-hundred feet lower than just seconds before.

A particularly strong gust of wind howled through the night, wrenching the hood of Rafiki's ebony cloak from her head, the matching ebony armor clinging to her body in a sensual and completely practical manner warding off the chill of early May.

The soft innocent features of the child nearing Seventeen summers had gone, all traces of baby fat had erased itself from her bones, leaving in its wake sharp cheekbones angled high and a sharp jawline. Perfectly arched brows sat perched evenly in a scowl above bambi like orbs. The once copper and honey tone that created a vibrant hue leaving a haunting topaz glow that had eaten the entirety of her eyes, iris, sclera and all. A slender nose tweaked to one side by the slightest degree from a previous fight sat above plush lips that currently curled to show her distaste at the situation, canines glinting dangerously from behind the ruby flesh.

Almost nagging in its endeavors the frigid wind howled past the woman once again, weaving its way through the mass of dark chocolate locks bound from crown to nape in nearly a hundred braids, the beads, bones and feather interwoven into them clinking gently, the only sound breaking the silence of the night other than the utterings far below. The sides of her hair were shorn short, revealing once tapered ears now mismatched that picked up the mumblings a few thousand feet beneath her. The top of her left ear was missing completely, bitten off by an orc many years ago, whom was now dead. Her right ear split from tip to shell twitched, the small black rune etched into her skin beneath it since birth warming slightly the longer she sat listening to the mutterings.

Her caramel skin had lost the radiant hue it had once held, having grown pale from her time hidden away from the sun in the depths of Moria. Her flesh was a canvas of ink, scars and metal, each piece telling a story. Telling her Rank. Her adopted culture. All of it molding her into the perfect weapon of war. A perfect commander for the armies of Hell.

Settling her hood back over her head as her small platoon of orcs finally reached her location Rafiki scoped out the small company spread out on the rock nearly a klick downwind of them. Some crowded round the small fire that spit sparks into the night at intermediate frequencies, the rest sleeping peacefully in their bedrolls, oblivious to the watchful eyes of Rafiki.

"Commander?" Questioned Ghorbandsh, her first lieutenents, his hazy sunken eyes flashing like a lantern in the dim light of the moon. "Your orders?"

Pursing her lips Rafiki contemplated her answer, pebbles shifting off the rock face, tumbling from above bouncing off her heavy cloak before pinging echoingly their whole descent down the cliff.

Brows pulling into an even deeper scowl Rafiki's hand show out, grasping the ankle of the orc above her, muscles twitching and coiling as she wrenched him from his perch, watching with annoyance as he plummeted to his death, shrieking the entire descent, finally falling silent as his body met the ground below with a snap, the sound echoing in the silent air, reaching Rafiki's ears with ease. The Dwarves had fallen silent, one of the members rushing from his place by the ponies towards the fire.

"We should kill them now." Commented an Orc to Rafiki's left, tongue darting out to wet his lips in hunger. "Strike while they sleep."

"Silence Argall." Rafiki snapped, losing whatever patience she'd had left. "They do not slumber any longer. We wait."

Pushing off the cliff with unwavering ease Rafiki plummeted from the sky, a brutal cry of her own echoing into the night, boot clad feet finding the soil, knees bending to absorb the impact, easing her landing. Thunderous in Rafiki's ears her platoon landed not long after, muttering to themselves at the thought of the hunt awaiting them.

"Trail them. Do not be seen or I will kill you all myself." Rafiki Ordered, rolling her shoulders as she prepared to remove herself from their company.

"Aye Commander." Ghorbandsh uttered, bowing his head as she made for the trees.

"I will be watching." Rafiki warned, eyes flashing dangerously from under her hood as she glanced back over her shoulder. "Do not harm a single hair on their heads as of yet. Fimbul, return to Azog, inform him of their location."

Without so much as a rustle of fabric Rafiki vanished into the trees. A single howl rent the air, alerting the orcs to the arrival of their wargs, the beasts slinking from the shadows with heads hung low. Ready for the hunt.

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Perched high in the branches of a tree surrounding a decimated farmhouse Rafiki waited, watching the sun crawl lower on the horizon, mind lingering on the argument she witnessed between a dwarf she'd come to identify as Thorin Oakenshield and the familiar form of Gandalf the Grey, separate from the rest of the company but not for long.

Rafiki had been trailing the company for nearly two days, observing them in a far more intimate way than before, more so than she ought to be. She'd learned their names, their habits and mannerisms, the way they interacted, whom was related and what they had to offer.

She was given basic information about her task. The three she was to kill were the descendants of Durin, the royalty destine for Erebor. Their King, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, was responsible for the loss of Azog's left arm, and thus had doomed himself, his kin Fili and Kili, and those traveling with them in hopes of seeing their homeland once more.

Gandalf had left the company after his heated argument with Thorin, shouting something about seeking company with himself, the only one with any sense, and confounding the stubbornness of dwarves the entirety of his trek out of their camp. After the exciting events had come to a close half of the company sat scattered about the clearing, a small group clustered tighter with their heads bowed, and the nephews to the king watching the ponies. The smallest member of the company Bilbo, a hobbit, had meandered into the forest with two bowls of stew for the royals some time ago.

Rafiki had underestimated the royal family, expecting them to be like any other dwarf she'd encountered; short, large nosed, and beady eyed with a high possibility of being rounder in shape. How very wrong she'd been. Rafiki may not have been exposed to races besides orcs often but she knew when one was attractive, granted her constant company with the masses of orcs made just about everything more attractive.

The King Under the Mountain, the holder of her current interest was particularly tall for a dwarf, Rafiki was sure he would be taller than her five foot frame by any means. His lengthy raven locks were laced with silver and his beard equally as dark was shorn close to what she imagined to be a strong jawline. Sharp cobalt orbs scanned the landscape at a near constant rate, searching for a danger that he would not currently find.

Rafiki's heart skipped a beat as for what must have been the tenth time that hour his stunning orbs paused on the tree in which she crouched. Her mind informed her that she was invisible to him, but with the way his eyes bore into her she could have sworn he could see her.

As he looked away Rafiki's heart resumed its normal pace, mind wandering into dangerous territory. Was the Dwarf Married? He did not have any heirs besides his sister-sons so it was doubtful. Did he have a woman back in Ered Luin that he was courting? Was he even _interested_ in women? More importantly, what did it matter if he did?

"Thorin." Rafiki could not help herself, she had wanted to test the way his name sounded, she found she like the way the words tasted and the way they rolled seductively off her pierced tongue, jaw snapping shut as he shifted, eyes on her position once more, eyes critical as he stood, taking a few steps towards her haven.

"Thorin?" Questioned the massive bald dwarf, Dwalin if Rafiki remembered correctly, breaking the stare down temporarily. "What is it?"

"Nothing, I am sure." Thorin replied easily, narrowing his eyes despite his words. "I am weary is all, thought I heard something."

"Trolls!"

The shout effectively drew everyone's attention to the pair of dwarves standing at the edge of the forest, panting wildly as if they'd run a marathon, which in all honesty they likely had.

Unwilling to listen to their ramblings and arguments Rafiki kicked off her branch, nimble feet finding purchase in the next, and the next after that with the ease of a wood elf, her lean frame crouching as she came upon thinning trees, observing the scene beyond.

Three massive trolls, stone trolls if Rafiki guessed correctly sat arguing around a blazing fire, and the hobbit crouched stupidly behind one.

"How come he's the cook? Everything tastes the same, everything tastes like chicken."

"Except the chicken."

"What tastes like fish."

"I'm just saying, a little appreciation would be nice. 'Thank you very much, Bert. Lovely stew, Bert.' How hard is that?"

Sneaking closer to one of the Trolls Bilbo slowed, reaching with baited breath for his knife, barely dodging his hand as he reached around to clutch at a tankard, ready to take a heaping swig of whatever it contained before he was interrupted.

"Mmm. Just needs a sprinkle of squirrel dung. Here that's my grog!" Snapped Bert, earning a quick 'sorry' from the offender before knocking , the first upside the head and taking the drink, observing the way both his companion and the tankard of grog fell over, turning back to the stew boiling away above the fire.

Raising the full spoon to his mouth the troll slurped at it. "Oh that is beautifully balanced that is. Wrap your loganbie around that, mate."

Offering it to the troll he'd previously hit, he muttered praises to himself, laughing at them as he did so.

"Huh? Good ain't it? That's why I'm the cook."

Having had enough of their pointless bickering Rafiki focused once more on the hobbit attempting to unsheathe the fileting knife round one of the trolls waists, struggling at the height difference, barely dodging the hand that reaching round to scratch it's ass.

"Me guts are grumbling, I've got to snaffle something. Flesh. I need flesh!"

Making a face Bilbo returned to his task, becoming so focused on his task that he failed to see the incoming hand that scooped him up, lifting him to the trolls face, receiving a massive shower of snot.

"Aah! Blimey! Bert! Bert, look what's come out of me hooter! It's got arms and legs an everything!"

"Rank." Rafiki muttered to herself, drawing the dual crossbows from their holsters, the deadly weapons already loaded and ready to be wielded with haunting accuracy.

"What is it?" Bert questioned, shambling closer to peer down at the shell-shocked hobbit.

"I don't know, but I don't like the way it wriggles around!"

"What are you then? An oversized squirrel?" Bert questioned, pointing his knife at Bilbo haughtily.

"I'm a burglar…uh, hobbit!"

"A 'burglar-hobbit'?"

"Can we cook him?"

"We can try!"

"He wouldn't make more than a mouthful. Not when he's skinned and boned!" Bert interrupted, waving away their suggestions.

"Perhaps there's more burglar-hobbits 'round these parts, might be enough for a pie!"

Ducking from the hold he currently sat in Bilbo rolled over the edge of the hand held where the three trolls could gaze at it.

"Grab him!"

"He's too quick!"

"Oah, come here! You little…"

Despite his desperate attempts Bilbo's legs were swept off the ground by one of the three, dangling helplessly above the ground.

"Gotcha! Are there any more of little fellas hiding where you shouldn't?" Questioned one of the trolls, pointing a knife at the hobbit now held by his feet.

"No." Bilbo replied quickly, attempting to free himself from his position, becoming more and more disoriented as the seconds ticked by.

"He's lying!"

"No I'm not!"

"Hold his toes over the fire, make him squeal."

Rushing from the bushes the younger heir slashed at the closest trolls leg, catching their attention before he made his demand.

"Drop him!"

Rafiki paused in her aiming, focusing her gaze on the dark haired nephew brandishing now his sword at the trolls.

"You what?" Questioned one, squinting at the dwarf, obviously confused by both the order and the sudden appearance.

"I said drop him!" Kili repeated, louder than before, dropping his sword in shock as the hobbit was thrown haphazardly at him, the remaining dwarves bursting from the bushes at the development, obviously a signal of some type.

Rafiki had to admit she was impressed with the dexterity of the dwarves, the way that they worked with one another was unseen in her line of work. Not only was Rafiki a lone wolf in particular by choice, but also due to the fact that the last time she'd been with a large group it had ended with the loss of nearly fifty orcs. Her small platoon was all she needed and she would prefer not to even have them, but Azog insisted.

Observing the progress that had been made Rafiki's heart gave a jolt at the sight of a trolls large foot descending towards Thorin whom was too busy slashing at another Troll to notice it.

"Fuck me." Rafiki cursed body already in action before she could wonder exactly what had overcome her.

Her body connected with the dwarf with a clear smack, sending him stumbling out of the trajectory of the trolls foot, Rafiki rolling clear without a second to spare, firing her crossbows into whatever orifice she could find, annoyed that she'd involved herself, yet the nagging at the back of her mind told her it was a subconscious choice, not something she could do anything about the development.

"Move!" The order bellowed by Rafiki at the massive bald dwarf known as Dwalin sent him barreling into the leg of a troll. Firing a bolas at the spot the dwarf had previously been Rafiki wasted no time to see the damage dealt by the exploding weapon, the scream of pain enough to assure her it had done at least some damage as she made for the next troll.

With perfect aim Rafiki lobbed a grenade into the sack hanging over a trolls shoulder, grinning in delight as the resounding bang that came with its detonation sounded, showering the company fighting beneath it in raven blood.

Crossbows firing rapidly Rafiki maneuvered deftly through the mass of fighting dwarves, occasionally yanking one of them from harm's way, the amount of arrows peppering the skin of the trolls slowing them by the smallest amount.

"Master Hobbit, I would advise you free those ponies soon." Rafiki stated, having come close enough to the hobbit that she could see the way his very frame shook at the events currently happening. "In the straps of my right boot, there is a dagger, use it to cut the rope."

Staring at the woman in wonder Bilbo stood frozen, mind still stuck on the fact that he was currently covered in snot, somewhere in the forests of the Trollshaws, and that a woman had appeared from the eaves of said forest to save their leader.

"Today Master Baggins!" The rumbled order came from deep in her chest, shaking the hobbit from his trance. "If you will not make use of yourself then be gone from the immediate area."

Springing into action Bilbo dove for Rafiki's right leg, plunging a hand into the multitude of straps entwining the thick leather of her boot, hand coming into contact with the well-worn grip of a long dagger the size of his forearm that would surely be a decent size for the woman whose sternum he barely reached.

Adjusting her frame so that she completely blocked the small hobbit now sawing at the thick ropes holding the door of the pen closed.

"Faster Bilbo." Rafiki urged, lobbing another grenade into the fray, arrow imploding it before it reached a height to harm to company hacking at the troll's legs. "We haven't much time."

"I'm trying." Bilbo muttered, attempting to figure out how the sheath came of the blade, giving a small peep of surprise as a calloused, half gloved hand descended upon it, quickly working the blade from the leather, revealing the obsidian metal, the thick partially serrated blade working at the rope easily.

"Go, go!" Bilbo urged the ponies as the rope broke free at last, the fence falling open without hesitation as he stuffed the blade back into the sheath, pausing to wonder why the shink of arrows releasing from the crossbows had gone silent.

Twisting round Bilbo came face to face with the reason why. The woman whom so valiantly defended Thorin now lay incapacitated at the base of a small ledge not far from him, her lean body lay unmoving, twisted in unnatural way, the only sign that she still held life being the barest of movements from her chest. The large gash from her right temple to the crown of her head bled heavily, the rich crimson oozing from it in a heavy stream obscuring her features, the massive bruise swelling upon the side of her face distorting both shape and color.

A pair of hands descended upon Bilbo, two of the trolls grabbing an arm and leg each, grinning in their victory.

"Lay down your arms or we'll rip his off!" Shouted one of them, giving Bilbo a particularly hard shake, earning a small squeak of pain from the hobbit now held much higher than he'd ever been before.

Thorin seemed to hesitate before stabbing the point of his sword into the ground, admitting that they had been defeated much to his chagrin.

Casting another glance at the woman Bilbo wished he could do something for her, his thoughts screeching to a halt as he was pulled mercilessly from his clothing, and stuffed into an over-sized sack stinking of the trolls and itching at his now exposed flesh.

"Where are you Gandalf?" Bilbo muttered, searching the trees around them in hopes of spotting the Wizard as he swooped to their rescue, dimly aware of the fact that the trolls were discussing the best way to eat them. Struggling to his feet Bilbo prayed that this would work, casting a look at the pile of dwarves writhing in their own sacks beside him, each yelling their own version of what they would do to the trolls were they free.

"Don't bother cooking 'em! Let's just sit on 'em and squash 'em into jelly!"

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage."

"Oh, that does sound quite nice."

"Never mind the seasoning, we ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away, let's get a move on! I don't fancy been turned to stone."

"Wait, wait!"

The trolls froze, turning to face the hobbit, balancing precariously on his feet.

"You're making a terrible mistake."

"You can't reason with them, they're half-wits." Dori called, face red as he spun over the fire.

"Half-wits? What does that make us?" Bofur shot back, a grumble of pain escaping him as he tried to adjust.

"I meant with the…uh, with the…with the seasoning." Bilbo stuttered, face pinching as he attempted to think of something in such a situation.

"What about the seasoning." Bert questioned, leaning closer to Bilbo.

"Well, have you smelt them? You're gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up." Bilbo gave a shaky laugh, eyes falling shut at the shouts of anger sounding from the dwarves.

"What do you know about cooking dwarf?"

"Shut up!" Ordered Bert, waving his companions off. "Let the uh, flurgerburbur-hobbit talk."

"The uh, the-the secret to cooking dwarf is to um..."

"Yes? Come on." Bert urged growing impatient with the small creature.

"It's uh…"

"Tell us the secret!" Bert shouted, seeming to have lost his patience at last.

"Ye-yes, I'm telling you! The secret is…to…skin them first!"

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Rafiki shifted ever so slightly, a small cry of pain escaping her before she clamped her jaw shut, attempting to open her eyes before shutting them at the amount of light burning off the fire not five feet away from her.

Ever so slowly Rafiki's hearing came back, the loud shouts of dwarves greeting her muddled mind. Cracking her eyes once more Rafiki observed the trouble the dwarves had landed themselves in.

"Fools." Rafiki muttered to herself at the sight of the cooking spit above the flaming fire, the other half of the naked dwarves stuffed into sacks on the opposite side from her.

Locating her crossbows in the pile of weapons belonging to the dwarves Rafiki gave a curse, calloused hands finding the pommels of her wickedly curved sickle-swords glinting in the firelight, the runes on them dancing dangerously as she heaved herself to her feet.

"Oh I'm going to regret this." Rafiki muttered to herself, a grimace finding its way onto her lips as she stood, her body attempting to heal itself from the amount of damage done, a slow process, slower than usual.

"Excuse me!" Rafiki called, once again silencing the group before her, stalling for time. "Yes, I'd like to file a complaint. It seems I was attacked from behind, and not in the good way, mind you."

"What are you doing?" Hissed Dwalin from his place facing the fire, the troll having abandoned the spit to stare at the woman.

"What're you." Spat one of the trolls, leaning closer to her, reaching a hand out to poke at her. "A lady! I like ladies, all the squishy bits are delicious!"

Faster than the eye could see Rafiki brought her blade down upon the trolls hand, slicing of the finger that was reaching for her, bringing the second blade up to slice his throat from ear to ear.

Rafiki watched as his massive form fell to the ground with an earth shaking thump, his blood creeping across the grass to her feet, earning a sneer of disgust from her.

"Yes a lady!" Rafiki taunted at the dying troll. "And yes, my squishy bits _are_ delicious. They are not however, for _you._ "

Too stunned to move the inhabitants of the clearing gaped at the woman casually wiping her now soiled blade off on the troll's loincloth, a small scuffling alerting them to the man now standing tall on the small hill of rock.

"The dawn will take you all!"

"Who's that?"

"I dunno, can we eat him?"

Bringing his staff down upon the ledge he currently stood on, Gandalf stepped to the side, sunrise pouring through the crack, spilling into the clearing, the two remaining trolls turning to stone with echoing screams, and the third in silence.

"Must you steal my moment?" Rafiki grumbled, turning to face the familiar form of Gandalf, earning a small smile from the elderly wizard.

"Yes Rafiki Cid, I do believe I must."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Where did you go, if I may ask?" Questioned Thorin, falling into step with Gandalf as he paced the small clearing restlessly.

"To look ahead." Gandalf retorted with a wry smile, glancing down at his companion.

"What brought you back?"

"Looking behind. Nasty business as you know. Still you are all in one piece."

"No thanks to your burglar." Thorin groused, the familiar scowl painting itself on his features one that Gandalf could have done without.

"He had the nous to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that." Gandalf shot back haughtily, observing the now frozen trolls. "They must have come down from the Ettenmoors."

"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?" Thorin grumbled, attempting to remember the last time he hear of such a thing.

"Not for an age. Not since a dark power ruled these lands." Rafiki cut in, falling into place next to the King and the Wizard, shooting a small grin at Gandalf before turning her gaze to Thorin. "They could not have moved in daylight, there will be a cave nearby. If I am correct, it will be to the North of here."

"Then we go North." Thorin ordered, turning from Rafiki to stride back to the company and discuss with them their recent findings.

"Why are you here Rafiki?" Gandalf muttered, placing a weathered hand on the younger woman's shoulder, leading her to the tree line farthest from the company of chattering dwarves.

"I am sure that you can guess." Rafiki retorted, leaning herself against the tree they had stopped next to, a small wince crossing her features as she jostled her healing injuries. "If I must spell it out for you my friend, then you have lost your touch."

"Azog." Gandalf muttered, shooting a glance at the King discussing important matters with Dwalin and Balin. "I had hoped that you would have been done with that filth by now."

"Watch your tongue, Wizard." Rafiki warned, eyes flashing from beneath the brim of her hood. "He may be filth but he is the reason that I am alive. He has cared for me for many years now, or have you forgotten? You would be lucky that I am the one whom was sent to carry out this task, or your merry band of dwarves would be long dead."

"Then you have grown soft." Gandalf shot back, watching the snarl curl itself onto her lips. "Since when has Rafiki Cid, precious gem of Azog the Defiler, granted mercy upon a simple _Dwarf_ and his kin? Unless I am mistaken you have done many things in your life Rafiki that few would admit to."

"Silence!" Rafiki hissed, body lurching from its lounging, hands curling into fists at the words. "I am not proud of my actions, but I will not deny them. I have done many things that perhaps I should not have, and have not done many that I should have. I will not however, let you assume that It was all for naught. I am the right hand of Azog the Defiler. I am that which he treasures beyond his own life. I am what has survived his wrath. I am that, which he has vowed fealty to. I am the leader of his armies. I am the owner, of his _heart._ And when the time has come, I will be the harbinger of his doom. "

"Then why are you here?" Questioned Gandalf, taking a small step back from the raging woman, leaning heavily upon his staff. "If you are not here to kill Thorin Oakenshield, you have no reason for being here."

"You are wrong." Rafiki whispered, stepping back as well, hand falling limp at her sides. "I bring a warning. One that should not be ignored, and yet I grasp that you will not allow me to tell him."

"He is not to know that Azog still lives." Gandalf warned, straightening in order to tower of Rafiki. "If he learns such things he will lead this quest on a completely different course, and he will die."

"If I do not kill him." Rafiki muttered, turning her gaze on the King now observing them with interest, a sad smile curling at her lips. "They will all perish."

"What?" Gandalf questioned, a small puff of confusion escaping him. "I do not understand."

"If I do not kill him by the time he reaches that mountain…" Rafiki hesitated, shifting her weight before turning her gaze upon Gandalf. "War will be upon us."


	5. Chapter Four

To say that Gandalf had been stumped at her haunting statement was an understatement, and Rafiki had wasted no time in stumbling off to commence the Hobbit on his bravery, exchanging pleasantries as they followed the company into the woods in search of the troll hoard, although both Gandalf and Rafiki knew that it had been a well thought out escape method used to prolong the inevitable conversation that would surely follow her warning.

"I've never seen anyone fight like that." Bilbo muttered after a pregnant pause, hands fidgeting nervously before twisting themselves into the fabric of his now ruined vest. "Well I've never really seen anyone fight, but I don't imagine its anything like the way you do."

A short bark of amusement escaped Rafiki before she had a chance to stifle it, slender hand darting out to ruffle the messy curls clinging to one another with the residue of troll snot, knowing it would annoy the hobbit.

"No, my dear hobbit." Rafiki chastised, slanted orbs flashing in the sunlight as Bilbo swatted her hand away a small scowl tugging at his gentle features. "You will not see anyone fight like I do. My people are dead, and those I was raised with after the siege of my home, they are a violent and cruel nation, and I will pray that you are never cursed with their presence."

"D-dead? Siege?" Bilbo stuttered, a small peep escaping as his toes caught on a particularly wide root, finding calloused hands steadying him in an instant. "That's terrible, I am truly sorry to hear such a thing. If, if I may ask, how well I mean how exactly did they die?"

"A story for another time, I think." Rafiki stated, the massive cave the trolls had lodged themselves in coming into view, the odor wafting from its depths sending the poor hobbit into a coughing fit.

"But you will tell me?" Bilbo questioned through the subsiding coughs, turning a wide gaze on Rafiki at the thought that he might actually learn something about the mysterious woman.

"Perhaps one day, my friend." Rafiki muttered to Bilbo, a scowl curling at her features as the dwarves piled into the cave without hesitation. "Filthy bastards, aren't they?"

"What is that smell?" Bilbo nearly gasped, turning his back to the mouth of the cave in hopes of muddling the smell, unsure if her comment was directed at the now deceased trolls, or the dwarves pillaging the junk cluttered within.

"Trolls are not the most hygienic of creatures Bilbo." Rafiki snorted, leading the younger being to an abandoned and likely long ignored log, urging him to sit before dropping into a crouch before him, limbs loosening at the familiar stance. "Why would they be? They certainly don't interact with other creatures like you and I do, and well let's face it, if they are it is because they are going to eat them."

"Yes, I guess you're right." Bilbo agreed adjusting his position so he could observe Rafiki more comfortably, surveying her frame with curiosity. "What are you exactly? I-I'm sorry that was extremely rude of me."

"Rude as it may seem to you, young hobbit, it is a tame comment compared to the uncouth things that have been thrown at me." Rafiki stated, waving away his concerns as if they were nothing, and to be honest, to her troubled mind they were indeed insignificant. "I am many things; you will have to be much more specific than 'what are you'."

"Yes, well I mean, frankly you're on the petite side, much to delicate too be from the race of man, but I've read that dwarven women are bulky and often have beards sometimes more impressive than their counterparts, and well, although you are dainty enough to be a hobbit, we don't wear shoes do we? You move with enough grace to be an Elf, though I thought that Elves were all statuesque in height." Bilbo shot off, a nervous laugh escaping him. "And you aren't an orc, unless, well you aren't an orc are you?"

"No Bilbo, I am not an orc." Rafiki laughed, ruffling his curls once more, mind taunting her with the fact that she may not have been born an orc, she certainly fell into line with their actions. "I am of mixed races. My mother was a dwarf, and my father, well he was…mostly human, albeit a gifted one."

A strangled noise escaped Bilbo at the word Dwarf, for the thought of another stubborn and prideful being was nearly unbearable, though she hardly seemed to share the overbearing qualities of the King under the Mountain.

"A dwarf?" Bilbo grumbled, pursing his lips as a few of said race stumbled from the cave, their boisterous laughter ringing through the forest.

"Do not be so startled my friend." Rafiki urged, turning her own gaze on the group collecting around them to observe what the hobbit was seeing. "I am nothing like our companions, fret not."

"I-I didn't mean, I just, it's only that, they, they are a rather cavalier group." Bilbo muttered hurriedly, face heating as he stumbled over his words, attempting to unbury himself from the hole he'd dug.

"Cavalier." Rafiki repeated, tone mocking as Bilbo sunk lower on the log, ducking his head in hopes of disappearing into the dirt. "My you certainly have a way with words Bilbo Baggins. I am not insulted by your opinions, you would be wise however, to keep them quiet next time, I believe that our companions would not take so kindly to such statements, true or not."

"Bilbo." Greeted the wizard, appearing over Rafiki's shoulder like an omen of doom, the hobbits previously bowed head snapping up at the sound of his name.

"Here, this is about your size." Gandalf continued, holding out an elvish dagger, roughly the size of his forearm, the shock curling over the hobbits features one that was becoming familiar.

"I can't take this." Bilbo objected stepping back from the offered blade, calves bumping into the log sending him stumbling to the side.

"This blade is of elvish make, which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby." Gandalf informed, offering the blade once more, observing as shaking hands pulled it from his grasp, wide fearful eyes taking in the glinting silver of the blade, the designs etched upon its surface telling of its origin.

"I, I have never used a sword in my life." Bilbo muttered, shaking his head at the thought of wielding such a deadly object at any point in the near future, the nagging voice in the back of his mind reminding him that he held no training and would likely skewer himself before managing to land a single hit upon an enemy.

"And I hope that you never have to. But if you do, remember this; true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one."

Pursing his lips once again Bilbo gave a slow short nod, tying the sheathed sword round his waist, fiddling with the belt nervously, the image of the deadly blade still fresh in his mind.

"Fret not Bilbo." Rafiki reassured him, lean body uncoiling as she stood to her full height, albeit a mere 5'. "We will teach you how to wield a blade before this quest has met its end."

Bilbo made to reply, portly frame jolting in surprise as Thorin released a bellowed warning, mouth snapping shut on whatever reply he'd been ready to give the woman.

"Something is coming!"

Rolling her eyes at their rushed movements meant to defend themselves at what they thought to be a threat, Rafiki plopped her lean frame down on the recently vacated log, mindlessly adjusting the well-worn leather encasing her thumbs and index fingers.

"Hurry, now! Arm yourselves!" Gandalf urged, tossing a meaningful look at the lounging form of Rafiki, his own recently acquired blade singing as he drew it, ready to wield it in a familiar pattern.

Bursting from the confines of the forest all the while shouting at the top of his lungs about thieves, fire and murder a lanky man clad in weathered mud hued robes, astride a sleigh pulled along jauntily behind a half-dozen rabbits slid to a hat before the grey wizard.

"Radagast." Gandalf sighed, slumping in relief at the sight of the brown wizard, sword finding its home at his waist before he strode forward to meet the panicked fellow. "It's Radagast the brown."

Tittering to himself in a fit of some type Radagast ignored the familiar face as he dismounted the sleigh in a nervous fashion, stumbling slightly at the change of terrain, meeting Gandalf in a few short strides.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Gandalf questioned, attempting to soothe the brown wizard enough that he could receive the answers he needed.

"What on earth indeed." Rafiki muttered, a small frown of confusion marring her features as she tilted herself closer to the pair, narrowing her eyes at the nervous twitch of the brown wizard before turning her gaze on the forest.

Pushing herself from the log Rafiki hushed the grumbling dwarves, stepping closer to the towering succulents and sprawling ficus. Trailing her gaze from one end of the tree line to the opposite Rafiki shifted, goosebumps rolling across her flesh at the echoing silence that hung hauntingly in the chilled fall air, the lifeforms normally bustling about on their business suddenly scarce.

"The Greenwood is sick Gandalf." Radagast muttered to his fellow Maiar. "A darkness has fallen over it, nothing grows anymore."

"Nothing good at least." Rafiki cut in, stepping into place beside them. "It is no longer Greenwood the Great. A terrible illness has befallen it and the air is thick with decay. You would be wise to avoid it whilst on your travels, my friend. Nothing good will come of entering those woods. The Greenwood of Old is no more, whispers speak of Mirkwood, and the foulness it houses in its vastness."

"She's right Gandalf." Radagast urged, tossing a wary glance at the newcomer, wondering just exactly how she had come across such information, let alone known about it before he had. "But worse still are the webs."

"Webs? What do you mean?" Gandalf interrogated, gaze flicking from the distressed face of the wizard to the set jawline and pursed lips of the hunter.

"Spiders, Gandalf. Great ones like I've never seen. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I'm not a wizard. They came from Dol Guldur."

"Dol Guldur? But the old fortress is abandoned." Gandalf muttered, be it that he was trying to convince himself, or the two sharing in the discussion was unknown.

"No, my friend." Rafiki warned, slanted orbs glowing hauntingly from beneath the brim of her hood, the depths swirling with secrets. "It is not abandoned, and you a fool if you think that it is. A dark power dwells in that fortress, one that I have yet to feel rivaled. It is the remains of an ancient horror rising from the shadows, and it gains power with each passing day, with each pledge to its services."

"It can raise the spirits of the dead, Gandalf." Radagast muttered, tossing a glance over his shoulder as if something had pursued him from the depths of the ruins. "I saw him Gandalf. From out of the darkness he has come, the necromancer!"

Eyes wide with fear the brown wizard accepted the pipe offered to him, puffing away madly as Gandalf explained quietly what the properties of the pipe weed could offer.

"Something is not right Gandalf." Rafiki muttered, shifting to survey the forest once again, noting that if it had been silent before, now it could only be described as the silence before death. "It is to quiet."

"Nonsense." Gandalf muttered, to focused upon the package Radagast was holding out to hm to properly hear her words. "You are simple wary from the words recently spoken."

Scowling at the wizard Rafiki made for Thorin, grasping his elbow once she drew close enough, ignoring both his jolt of surprise and dour stare.

"Something is out there." Rafiki whispered to him, a shiver racing along her spine as his sharp sapphire orbs snapped back to her face from his observations of her lean frame. "The forest is silent, and not from our presence nor from that of the trolls."

"Be on your guard." Thorin ordered the company, ready to toss out more orders, the echoing howl cutting him off.

"Fucking shit." Rafiki hissed, ripping twin crossbows from their places at her hips, sharp eyes scanning for the Warg she now knew to be hunting them, stalking them, the cause for the uncanny silence.

"Was that a wolf? Are there…are there wolves out there?" Bilbo stuttered, allowing Bofur to drag him into the circle the company had formed.

"Wolf? No that was not a wolf." Bofur admitted, chocolate orbs skittering around nervously much in the fashion that the other dwarves shared.

"Warg scouts!" Rafiki called in warning, crossbows firing rapidly at a target currently unseen by the company behind her, the raven Warg bursting into the clearing with a snarl, racing down the hill at them, a particularly well placed arrow sending it stumbling into Dwalin's axe, the second falling to Kili and Thorin with a well-placed arrow and simple jab.

"An orc pack is not far behind!" Thorin shouted, heart racing from the sudden encounter, checking swiftly to see that his company was unharmed.

"Orc pack?!" Bilbo squeaked, stepping closer to the imposing figure of Dwalin, currently wiping his axe clean on the matted fur of the Warg.

"Who did you tell of your quest beyond your kin." Gandalf raged, towering frame looming over Thorin, shadows curling round his frame as he raged.

"No one."

"Who did you tell?!"

"No one, I swear! What in Durin's name is going on?" Thorin rumbled in reply, hand curling tighter around the pommel of his sword at the accusations, glaring up at the wizard haughtily.

Glancing from the King to the woman just over his shoulder Gandalf deflated visibly, a small sigh escaping him as he connected the pieces, kicking himself for missing it until it was too late.

"You are being hunted."

Tossing a knowing glance at the terrified wizard Rafiki broke off from the group muttering nervously to one another, making for the forest that would lead her to the plains beyond, and in turn, to the foolish orcs whom could not follow a simple order.

"And where do you think you are going?" Thorin interrupted her, gaze fixed on her slender back, following in her footsteps in hopes of earning an answer.

"You will not make it across the plains with a pack of orcs tailing you." Rafiki stated simply, twisting to gaze at the King, breathe catching in her throat at his nearness. "I will distract them so that you will have safe passage."

"And I shall join you, young lady." The Brown wizard stated with a manic grin, the bird feces slathered down the side of his face giving him a crazed look as he placed himself back on his sleigh, the jostling earning a shift from the rabbits as well.

"Are you two insane?" Gandalf questioned, squinting at the pair. "These are Gundabad Wargs. They will out run you!"

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits; I'd like to see them try." Radagast shot back, a smirk adorning his features before he urged his rabbits into a run, darting into the underbrush with a gleeful shout.

"And you?" Gandalf questioned, turning his attention to Rafiki, a frown tugging at his lips as he pondered the fate that lay in wait on the other side of the forest.

"I am well aware of what they are capable of." Rafiki supplied with a shrug. "And I am well aware of the consequences of my actions. If I am to die on these plains, I will not be fleeing for my life like a coward."

"Very well then." Gandalf sighed, resigned to the fact that he would not be able to change the young woman's mind. "Until we meet again, my friend."

"I will pray to your Gods for your success my friend's." Rafiki smiled, the familiarity of her words striking a chord in Gandalf's heart. "May they guide you well."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Racing through the trees Rafiki burst from the tree line, a small war cry escaping her, lean frame blurring as she raced for the mass of Wargs chasing Radagast, the orcs astride them urging them faster.

Shouts of encouragement sounded in black speech as the orcs caught sight of Rafiki, one of the many curving from the group and into her path, a calloused hand shaded a particularly unattractive bloodstained grey held out to her, the owner muttering praises to her in his native tongue.

Accepting his hand Rafiki's feet left the blurred terrain beneath her, lithe frame falling into place behind the orc as he hefted her onto the Warg, a small blade she kept tucked into her gauntlet finding the back of his neck, a strangled grunt escaping him as he careened off his mount, the furry beast springing forward at the loss of weight. Leaning close Rafiki muttered words of encouragement as they gained on Ghorbandsh, the orc twisting in his seat to greet her.

"Commander." Ghorbandsh rasped, observing the woman pulled level with him. "Glad you could join us."

"What do you think you are doing?" Rafiki hissed, ramming her Warg into his in her anger, ignoring the snarls sounding from the beasts racing along, their thirst for the hunt amplified by her fury, as it always had been. "I told you to trail them, and yet here I find you, hunting them without my order."

"Commander?" Ghorbandsh questioned, dread curling in the depths of his gut as her statement clicked into place, icy fear washing over him like a tsunami. "You sent word with Argall, we were to begin the hunt and you would join us when you felt it was right. We were to feast upon the dwarf scum together."

"And you believed the lying bastard?" Rafiki snarled, eyes wild in the sunlight, her hood having fallen off long before she'd entered the plains, her fury clear for them to see. "Tis a shame, I actually believed you to be competent."

"Commander."

"Silence." Drawing her crossbows Rafiki scanned the plains for the orc. "I've heard enough of your blathering excuses. You should not have trusted Argall, and you shall find your punishment for such an act soon enough. Where is he? And do not lie to me."

Gaping at the woman Ghorbandsh raised a shaking hand, a single twisted finger directing her attention at the orc in the distance directing his Warg as it shuffled along, snout pressed to the outcropping of rocks that no doubt hid the company from their sights.

Veering off from the pack, Rafiki raced for Argall, plunging a knife into the back of her Wargs skull, the front legs collapsing within seconds, sending her catapulting from its back, the air whistling through her open fingers, the thunderous collision of her lean frame with Argall's much burlier one sending them to the ground in a flurry of tangled limbs and curses, his now abandoned Warg stumbling from the recoils of their impact and the sudden loss of weight.

"Filthy bitch!" Argall shouted, fists flying as he attempted to knock Rafiki from his chest where she'd lodged herself, her own hits precise despite the current struggle. "What'll Azog say when he learns that his favorite _whore_ is a traitor?"

Fingers digging into his jaw, nails piercing the flesh and through the muscle to grasp at the bone of his jaw Rafiki wrenched his head to face her, the sneer marring her features particularly animalistic.

"You won't live to find out." Rafiki hissed, spittle flying as the orc bucked vehemently, pushing the palm of his hand flat against her face, twisting her head to the side in the vain attempt at breaking her hold.

Giving up on his efforts of shoving her off Argall scrambled for his sword, palm skittering across loose gravel in his search, settling instead for the first decent sized rock he managed to grasp in his searching fist, bringing it up to meet the side of Rafiki's face, a snarl escaping her as she tumbled off of him, rolling some few feet away from the orc now stumbling to his feet.

"We'll see about that." Argall grunted, wiping the blood from his chin with the back of his hand as he watched Rafiki attempt to pull herself up, slightly dazed from the hit, his foot finding her ribs sending her sprawling onto her back, palms scraping against the loose rocks as she went. "You know, I never understood what he saw in you. But stay on your knees and I'm sure I can find it in myself to begin to understand."

Rolling onto her stomach Rafiki tucked a foot under herself, making to stand, a strangled gasp escaping her as one of his hands curled into the untamed locks of hair that had fallen free some time ago after her hood had fallen off. Plucking his forgotten blade from the gravel Argall brought it to Rafiki's throat with a flourish, a pale puckering scar stretching from one ear to another showing a similar attempt on her life some years ago.

"Maybe I ought to fuck you?" Argall tormented, wrenching her head to the side uncaring of the way it twisted at her joints, sandpapery tongue darting out to lap up the blood staining the right side of her head, leaving a crimson trail down her slender neck stretched taunt. "Tell him you came to me in the night? Tell him how sweet you taste?"

"You talk too much." Rafiki laughed, the sound bitter as she gazed blankly ahead, the sound of the dwarves rustling just over the edge of the outcropping, catching the attention of the Warg watching the scene before him unfold with baited breath. "I mean honestly, do you just enjoy the sound of your own voice or are you simply trying to bore me to death? And aside from that, he wouldn't believe that I came to you, not with a mug like that."

Firing the crossbow she managed to remove from its holster Rafiki wrenched herself from the overbearing grip of the now dead orc, a well-crafted ebony arrow splicing through his chin to protrude from the top of his head, glinting lowly with ebony blood before his slumped over, a similar arrow slicing through the air to find the eye socket of the frozen Warg.

"Dumbass." Rafiki snorted, hauling her lean frame to her feet, stumbling slightly with a wince at the pull at her developing bruises, a small groan escaping her as calloused fingertips searched out the wound leaking freely forcing herself into a jog after the company of dwarves racing away from the remaining orcs whom were gaining much faster than Rafiki was comfortable with.

The shouts of the company echoed across the plain as Rafiki raced along the path the dwarves had clearly taken, as she came round a mass of rocks Rafiki could see the company, and the cause for their panic.

"Kili! Shoot them!" Thorin urged, observing the closing circle of Orcs with contempt, a single bolt not like those of his nephew drew Thorin's attention to the approaching woman, though she was unfamiliar at first with the lack of shadows thrown over her pretty face.

Killing another two as she burst through the circle to stand with the company Rafiki gave a wry smirk at the familiar face of her first lieutenant, crossbows tucked neatly at her sides as slender hands curled round the grips of her sickle-swords, the metal singing as she drew them, a haunting pattern familiar to the warrior and what was once her platoon.

"Forgive me." Rafiki muttered over her shoulder to the company though her eyes locked on Thorin before twisting round to face the enemy once more.

"So he was right." Ghorbandsh muttered in broken English, albeit better English than Argall. "You will defy your master's wishes? Defy his orders?"

"He is not my master." Rafiki retorted without pause, lips pursing as arched brows pulled themselves low over her eyes.

"We shall see." Ghorbandsh shrugged, shifting upon his Warg in thought. "It is a shame, you have shown such potential."

Shifting restlessly at the fury of their commander the Wargs grew restless, waiting for orders, from her or those mounted upon them it mattered not.

"A shame indeed." Rafiki retorted, another wry smirk tugging at her lips. "I thought that you showed signs of being useful."

"Your head will be my prize commander. Azog will weep at its loss, and perhaps I shall too for a time. But the others, the others will rally, and never again will Azog trust such a fragile creature, such a fickle whore."

Springing into action Rafiki swung the deadly swords in a deadly dance, beheading orc and Warg alike, darting from one to the next ignoring the seemingly insignificant scratches along the way.

"Go." Rafiki ordered, twisting to face the company as she evaded a well-placed jab from Ghorbandsh. "Gandalf is within the pass and will show you the way."

Scowling at the woman Thorin nodded to the company, a short, tense motion that sent them into action, racing for the wizard that had ironically appeared shouted for them. Ready to follow his fellow dwarves Thorin stumbled off his intended path as Rafiki slammed into him in a familiar manner, the sword aimed to remove his head striking her instead due to her actions.

The sword wielded by Ghorbandsh had sliced cleanly through her shoulder, blade cracking against the now shattered bone of her clavicle, the blade lodged half way through her chest glistening slickly with blood.

"I'm sorry." Rafiki muttered, a wet cough escaping her chest as she shoved at Thorin to move him from harm's way. "Oh god I'm sorry."

Blood flowing from her wound like a never ending river, Thorin's own wound paling in comparison, barley an inch long and shallow enough to be considered a scratch. Finding just enough strength to stumble round to face her lieutenant, blade shaking as she swung it, decapitating him much like he'd meant to do to the King under the Mountain.

Knees buckling Rafiki collapsed, eyes wide at the few remaining orcs, the familiar form of Yazneg racing for the safety of weather top, leaving his companions to fend for themselves.

"This way you fool!" Gandalf shouted, breaking the trance like it were an over taunt string under immense pressure.

With a wild shout one of the remaining orcs dove at the kneeling woman, blade slicing through her spine like a knife in hot butter, the orc giving a grunt as he twisted and leveraged the blade, Rafiki's feet soon dangling inches above the dirt, blood pooling thickly in her mouth to swell over her bottom lip, forming long shafts as it dripped towards the terrain bellow, spine resting against the pommel guard of his sword.

"Thorin what're you doing!" Dwalin shouted, skidding to a halt as he realized the King was not following them as he should have been, instead he had unsheathed his blade, diving for the orc suspending Rafiki, catching the woman as the orc collapsed, a bolt protruding from his forehead as an ode to Rafiki's refusal to die without a fight.

Wasting no time Thorin sprinted for the pass, stumbling down the steep incline clutching at Rafiki the entire descent, war horns blaring across the plains behind them, feet finding the bottom of the hidden pass with more force than expected, sending the dwarf skittering into the opposite wall, absorbing the impact with his shoulder.

"I couldn't just leave her Dwalin." Thorin muttered, chest heaving from exertion, gazing down at Rafiki's features, and the pain curling at them, a small crease nestling itself between his thick brows. "She saved my life, twice now. She also has answers that I want."

Heaving a sigh Thorin turned his attention to the towering wizard currently observing the scene before him, a thick shadow blotting out the sun shining through the spit in the rocks , the body of a now dead orc tumbling into the hidden pass much like Thorin had moments before, war horns blaring once more. Eyes narrowing at the protruding for of the arrow lodged in the barrel chest of the orc Thorin sneered.

"Elves." The word was spat like it was poison if held to long behind his lips.

"I cannot see where the path leads." Dwalin called out silencing Thorin's fuming. "Do we follow it?"

"Follow it of course." Bofur called back, already following the narrow path, disappearing round a curve without a glance back.

"Can you help her?" Thorin questioned Gandalf as Dwalin disappeared down the curve as well, leaving the dwarf, wizard, and the unconscious woman.

"I cannot." Gandalf replied, observing the unsteady rise and fall of Rafiki's blood stained chest. "Follow the path and you shall find someone who can."

Cursing under his breathe in his native tongue about the stubbornness of wizards, shambling off after the wizard, frequently checking on Rafiki as he made the trek, catching the last of the wizards sentence as he meandered into the sunlight.

"-House east of the sea."

"This was your plan all along then?" Thorin rumbled, fingers curling tighter around the injured woman cradled in his arms. "To lead us into the arms of our enemies?"

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill will you bring here is your own." Gandalf admonished, brow furrowing in annoyance.

"Do you think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us." Thorin continued, agitated by the wizards words.

""Why of course they will." Gandalf agreed, leaning against his staff without pause. "But we have questions that need answers."

Thorin appeared pained at the sound logic, but argued no further as he spotted the steadily growing pool of crimson under his boots.

"If we are to be successful then this will need to be handled with tact. And respect. And no small degree of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me." Gandalf stated at Thorin's acquiescence. "They will help the lady Rafiki with no questions until the deed has been done, and they will do it to the best of their abilities."

Heaving a sigh, a growing trend it seemed, Thorin gave a slow nod the dwarves surrounding them muttering their anger at the submission of their king.

"Very well." Thorin relented, the pallid shade of Rafiki's flesh worrying him more than he wished to admit. "We will go to them."

"Good." Gandalf muttered, tossing a wary glance at the unconscious woman. "For I fear Rafiki does not have much time, advanced healing abilities, or not."


End file.
